Scroll down for Rex Hobart and The Oranges reviews. Click here for Mike Levy, The Oohs and Cinerama reviews.

Doleful Lions
Song Cyclops Volume One

Parasol

www.parasol.com

Release date: October 10, 2000

Listening to the first volume of Song Cyclops (yes, there will be a second volume, due next year), one could easily get the impression that Jonathan Scott grew up as the type of strange kid that no one teased on the playground, because he was simply too weird. A sampling of song titles from this effort only hints at the dense internal mythology that Scott has created: "Jamie Conjures Demons", "Hercules In The Haunted World", "Charles Starkweather Vs. Sasquatch".

Fittingly, the music that guides you into Scott's alternative universe sounds like it was pulled from the ether - a transmission from beyond. This is low-fi, but not as a badge of cool or because 'we couldn't afford it.' This is low-fi as an artistic choice, and a wise choice it is.

Acoustic guitars shimmer and dissipate, gently grabbing and releasing the delicate melodies. Some of the songs remind me of a wispier Robyn Hitchcock (especially "My Summer With Ghosts"), while sometimes the tunes reach a balance of quirkiness and beauty that encroaches on the territory marked out by Chris Knox and Tall Dwarfs ("Sung Swan Song").

Over the course of the 22 tunes, there are numbers that drift by without quite sinking into the brain pan. And others are just plain ol' head scratchers. Did the Lions record "We Three Kings Of Orient Are" because: 1) it was around Christmas time, and they wanted to practice their carols; 2) Scott was inspired after seeing the movie "Three Kings"; or, 3) a long held desire to perhaps hear a Doleful Lions tune at a shopping mall? Whatever the reason, it is pretty good version, with a nice backing vocal arrangement augmenting Scott's high pitched, near-adolescent voice. On the other hand, I can offer no reasons as to why "The Red Top Lounge Flesheaters" is so derivative of Bob Dylan's "Like A Rolling Stone".

What lifts this album from merely charming eccentricity to excellent pop-rock is the high number of songs that hit the bullseye. "Demon Smile" is folky Lennon, "A Walk In The Sun" is delicate and golden, with Scott's best vocal; "Now You're A Witch" has bit of a Lindsay Buckingham quality to it, and "Baptized In Bees" finds a midway point between Cotton Mather and Guided By Voices. This is definitely an album that is appealing on the surface, and keeps revealing more charms with each spin.

GRADE: A-

_____________________________________________

The Oranges
Young Now!

Rabbit

www.oranges.jp.org

From the wires:

"Japanese animators have advised Tokyo police of the mysterious disappearance of animated singing sensations The Oranges. According to sources within the police department, the images of the cartoon quartet have disappeared from all animation cels, with the rest of the cels remaining intact. Likewise, images of The Oranges' archenemy, The Hookmiser, have also vanished. Some speculate that this is a sign that these creations have taken life as three-dimensional life forms, who will soon do battle in the struggle for the future of pop music…."

Yes! Yes! Imagination has become reality! I am real! Not that I want imagination in pop music. Yes, it is I, the evil Hookmiser. I want to find those accursed Oranges to punish them for their criminally fun and ultracatchy music.

They've strewn their giggly pop goo all over this new disc, and for that they must pay. This disc is so silly, it could raise a smile to the face of someone with the blackest of dispositions. In fact, I smiled three times while listening and flogged myself in punishment.

What makes it worse, The Oranges are bringing back the innocent feel of British pop-rock of the early 70's. I thought that I had stamped this out when I caused the demise of the Bay City Rollers, Mud and Sweet. But nooooo --- " Ijimetai" is a rocker the likes of which I haven't heard since "Money Honey", "Discotechque" sounds like it should have been played at Greg Brady's prom, it's such a danceable piece of fluff, and "Scootering" marries the insidious hookiness of the Beatles' "Taxman"-riff with the charm of a million puppies.

I can't wait to get them into my new secret lair, which I have already equipped with the latest releases from Limp Bizkit and Matchbox 20 - I'm going to show them how real music is supposed to sound. Not this swaying melodic babble like "Picnic" (didn't this stuff die with the demise of Wizzard?) or the boogie-pop of "Baby Alright" and "All Day All Night". Mark my words - The Oranges are a threat to everything wrong with the charts today. Oops - I've got a meeting with Creed - gotta go.

Available in the U.S. at www.notlame.com, in Australia, e-mail purepop@primus.com.au

GRADE: A-

______________________________________________

Rex Hobart & The Misery Boys
The Spectacular Sadness Of Rex Hobart & The Misery Boys

Bloodshot Records

www.bloodshotrecords.com

If, as Pete Townshend once declared, rock and roll is music that lets you take your problems and dance all over them, then honky tonk is music that allows you to laugh at your problems while you cry in your beer. Devoid of irony, some find the lighter side of honky tonk to be corny, but I think it's homespun poetry. If Buck Owens' "I Finally Gave Her Enough Rope To Hang (And Now She Started Swinging)" strikes you as a great title and lyric, then Rex Hobart and his Misery Boys have a few gems that will put a grin on your face.

First and foremost, "I'm Not Drunk Enough", a tribute to the keen magnifying powers of beer goggles, is a classic. Hobart, not wanting to offend the object of his indifference, tells her "I'm not drunk enough to say 'I love you'", and then politely asks her "won't you let me buy another round." What a gentleman! What a loser!

Either Hobart is a keen observer of the human condition or he's the Chicago Cubs of love, as the kicks to the heart, soul and behind just keep coming. "How long does it take/for two eyes to dry" he asks on the slow "I'll Forget Her Or Die Crying" (though you suspect he already knows). "Forever Always Ends" is a mid-tempo must for the signing of divorce decrees, while "Let's Keep Lying Here" contrasts an uncharacteristically rocking rhythm with observations like "when you said you loved me/I never believed you anyway."

Not every song reaches these heights, but all of them are worth hearing because of the Misery Boys outstanding ensemble sound. This isn't big beat Bakersfield honky tonk, but a much mellower variety, more genteel Floyd Tillman than ass-kicking Dwight Yoakam. Special attention should be paid to the delicate work of drummer T.C. Dobbs, who subtly swings, even on the quietest numbers. And pedal steel player Solomon Hofer really holds the band together. Check out his stellar work on the terrific "'Til My Teardrops Turn To Gold". At the center of this warm sound is Rex himself - his gentle baritone has a barely perceptible cry in it, and his phrasing is impeccable. Take this disc to your next (self)-pity party.

GRADE: B

______________________________________________